


Flowers

by Haileyrex



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3739108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haileyrex/pseuds/Haileyrex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the dirt a flower shall grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers

this one goes out to the torn, the damned, and the shattered. in other words… this one goes out to the beautiful. break me. break me into a million pieces. chew me up and spit me out. i won’t mind at all. i’ll laugh from in between your teeth with a broken back. the human race is so concentrated on and fascinated by perfection, smoothness, and wholeness… and i will never understand why. broken is beauty. just because you are bruised and broken, does not mean you are down and out. you are still you. a shattered you, is still you in different pieces scattered around on the tile floor. i see it as opportunity. the chance to rebuild. you see, you can put yourself together again in whatever which way you would like. in the end… you are back together. thought out and admired piece by piece. you are a beautiful mosaic. a combination of tragedy, happiness, mindfulness, and memory all molded together to create YOU. to them you are just another broken heart; but to me, you are a piece of art. remember that. the same goes for scars. i have learned to love them. anyone can have smooth porcelain skin or a seemless heart… but there is not a soul in the entire universe that has the same scars as you. many people have smooth clear skin. how boring! i enjoy the things that make me different and unique. how boring it must be to be strong all the time. to be a fragile piece of glass shows that you have something to break…and having scars shows that you have chances to take. if your soul is like a canvas, then that must mean that scars are the lines in which we see ourselves drawn, and in my eyes… there is not a single negative notion or thought in that. if you’ve been hurt… keep your head up. that means you’re alive. laugh at the ones who walk in between four walls and straight lines. while they cash in cheap smiles… you are living. you are feeling. you are going through hell to shake the devil’s hand so when you come back up for air later you’ll have a story to tell; when all the “perfected” have is a soul to sell. don’t be afraid of getting kicked to the dirt sometimes. from the dirt; a flower shall grow.


End file.
